“ISO: One Woman, Low Judgement, High Snacks”
Any ladies out there with low standards and high patience? Because I’m 47, big, and live where the map loses its cadence. Middle-of-nowhere, PA—deer, dust, and not much flair, But I’ve got a porch, a grill, and one heck of a recliner chair.
I’m a disabled vet with some baggage in tow, Still unpacking the past, going steady, not slow. Working on me, one day at a time— With scars, laughs, and this half-decent rhyme.
I’m soft in the belly, strong in the soul, More heart than hair now, but still rock ‘n’ roll. I don’t have six-pack abs—just one in a cooler, And I dance like a dad, but dammit, I'm cooler.
I’ll listen, I’ll learn, I’ll make you some stew, I’ll rub your feet and take the trash out too. So if you want real—not rich, ripped, or fake— I’m your grizzled cinnamon roll with a side of steak.
